At Last
by Cintia J
Summary: Hook found Emma in New York, and was able to restore her memories. But their reunion after that whole year apart was more than they both expected... (set at the beginning of S3B - no Walsh)


"_I know you can't remember me, but I can make you_".

Everything had happened so fast… Even when neither of them mentioned their hasty, awkward morning encounter, she knew, they both were thinking of it. But Emma had decided to ignore the fact of what it had really been.

True love's kiss. He had expected his love could bring her back, with the hope that, even when she didn't had memories of him in her head, it would be her heart the one recognizing him.

Emma couldn't but recall again and again his instant smile when she opened the door… like he had been waiting his entire for that moment. And that brief second, of his hand cradling her head, and his lips brushing hers… But, no. _Stop it, Emma_.

Since she drank the vial and got all of her memories back, things weren't going as they should. Why did she do it in the first place? She had a perfectly content life, with her son, and her own home. Why wouldn't she let things the way they were? She squeezed her glass between her hands a little. Hook sat right in front of her, staring at her, as if waiting for her to say something. She kept silent, with her eyes fixed on the table, but not really looking at it. They were both sitting there, with their glasses half empty, as if waiting. But, for what?

Emma glanced at the clock behind her. It was past midnight. She suddenly stood up, and so he did. He approached her, with a look on his eyes she knew pretty well. Before he could say anything, she asked:

"Where have you been staying?"

"Here and there. Don't worry about me, love, a pirate always finds a place".

"You can stay here, if you want" she said, before she knew what she was saying. And before he could answer, she started removing the couch's pillows.

"It's better for you not to wander around dressed like that". He tilted his head, with his usual smirk, as if were about to ask what was wrong with his clothes. But he said nothing. She tossed the pillows on the couch on the left, as she kept talking.

"It's not the best thing ever, but I bet it's better than many places you've been in. It's just for tonight, though. We leave in the morning."

She went (fled) to Henry's room, and pulled some covers from his closet, at the same time thanking heavens he wasn't home. She would find a way to restore his memories, but so far, that was the least of her worries… She took a moment before leaving the room, and with a deep breath ("_stop it, Emma; this is ridiculous_"), she closed the door and returned to the half lit living room.

He was waiting for her.

"You can use these, but I don't think…"

The rest of the sentence never came out of her mouth. He approached her, and his hand softly found her cheek. Instantly, Emma fell silent. His face was so close, that she could sense the so well-known smell of leather and rum she didn't know she had missed so much. He took the blankets from her hands and left them on the table, his eyes flicking to her lips.

"Hook, I…"

"Please, Emma." He whispered, and she shuddered when she heard her name on his low, almost begging voice. "Just once, and I promise, I will never say another word on the matter".

He was aching for it, after all that time, in which he felt nothing but that burning emptiness that only she could fill, but never would. She didn't find the strength to push him away, but neither she tried to step back, wordlessly allowing him to do what he wanted, aware that a part of her was as eager as him. He closed the gap between them, eyes never parting from hers. He tucked a lock of golden hair behind her ear, his calloused fingers caressing her cheek, so gently… as if fearing he could tear her fair skin if he wasn't careful enough. She didn't move.

Their lips met in a loving, intense kiss. Soft, and yet passionate. They breathed each other in, warmly, deliciously. Her whole body shaking a little, she could taste his longing, and the fulfilling of the promise he had made. Her hand stroke up his arm and rested on his shoulder, as she felt, on his lips, every day that went by in which he thought of her.

When they finally parted, he rested his forehead on hers for a brief moment. She dared to look up. Have his eyes always been so deeply blue? With the same low voice as him, she dared to speak.

"Still?" She tried that one word not to tremble, but failed. A whole year later, and still…?

"Always", he whispered, voice broken.

Gods, he had needed her so much… But his pain had been more than simple longing. None of those centuries he had lived had been as endless as that past year, in which days were nothing more than an attempt to forget he had a heart, and it was broken. Because this time, he didn't have hatred and vengeful thoughts to fill the void. Only memories. Of her face, her beauty, her voice… The passion of their only shared moment, and the regret of not kissing her one last time before being ripped from her…

He was so close, that she could feel his warm breath across her face, the dampness of his lips still lingering on hers. Even when he intended to let her go, his hand slid down her back and encircled her waist, pulling her even closer. _Emma_. She was really here. This was true. He needed to sense, to feel, this was real. Here mere presence, with her hand still on his shoulder, just staying there, in his arms, not trying to get rid of him… soothed all the pain he carried since he lost her even when he'd just found her.

Just one kiss. That's all he had requested. But now, that he could finally hold her, he didn't want to let her go, unable to resist the urge of pressing his lips to hers once more. His eyes looked for hers, and he was struck once again by her stunning beauty. She was more beautiful than he remembered. A smile curved his lips. Not his usual flirty smirk that usually came along with one of his innuendos, but a true smile, born from sincere happiness. And Emma noticed it.

Her head was screaming how wrong this was. But it felt so right… Along with her memories, all those feelings she insisted on ignoring came back too. Because she had pushed him away, shielding herself against pain. The spark had been undeniable since the very start, but she was so scared of the fire it could create, so afraid of getting burned again, that didn't even dare to believe it could bring her warm and comfort. She was Emma Swan, after all. The unloved, unwanted lost girl who trusted no one.

But this man… This man had come back. To her. _For_ her.

And she couldn't stop herself. Feeling his grip loosening, she cradled his head, tangling her fingers in his dark hair, and brought his lips to hers once more. His arm around his waist tightened as he kissed her fiercely; being, once more, certain of something he had recognized since the first time their lips met, back in Nerveland, when he kissed Emma back as passionately… only knowing that he was a lost man; that, somehow, losing her would mean losing a part of himself, like having his heart ripped out. But, right then and there, all he had been able to do had been to keep her close. And the same happened now. Words were useless. Now, after those endless days without her, he couldn't but hold her tight, feeling her warmth, devouring her lips, breathing her in like she was all the air he needed to live… Because, as a year ago he had known instantly that he was utterly lost, he knew now, that she was completely his. Life ran through him again. Love, he knew, had not forgotten them.

"I love you, Emma", he whispered against her lips, and more than a confession, it was a promise. The promise of never letting her go again. She just buried his face in the crook of his neck, feeling his scruff against her skin. His hand on her cheek urged her to look at him. And, just as Emma had once said, they understood each other. Perfectly.

"Stay", she whispered. Not just for the night, but for all the nights they had left. At her side.

"As you wish".

And silently, he led them both to the couch and laid them down. She came even closer, relishing in their warm closeness, as his arms came around her, holding her against him. She hid a smile on his shoulder. This, this was real. True. For the first time in ages, she wasn't afraid. He had come back. He wouldn't leave. Never again.

There was so much to say… He pressed one more soft, sweet kiss on her lips. Their night had just begun, and his princess was finally, truly, his. At last.


End file.
